The Recruit
by kayoswald
Summary: Michonne is recruited to the Alexandria Safe-Zone. Run.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Michonne is recruited to the Alexandria Safe-Zone. Run.

 **Author's Note:** This is my first fic in a long, long time. I'm talking probably five years. Don't kill me. Also, this is slightly AU (obviously) and straight-up Richonne. Where my Richonners at?

* * *

"Hello."

Michonne felt a cold chill zip through her body, and she was on her feet with her katana in her hands before she noticed it.

A man with short brown hair, a dark parka and a backpack had his hands help up in a peace truce, palms facing her. His eyes were friendly and his smile was warm, but Michonne eyed him suspiciously, sending a dark glare his way. She had been on her own for quite some time and had run into people who had taught her that nobody could be trusted and that it was better off to be alone. The likelihood that this man was not by himself coursed through her head, and she darted her eyes around distrustfully.

"I'm Aaron," he greeted calmly. He eyed her sword with no surprise, and she said nothing, not moving from her stance. The relaxed manner in which he approached her did nothing else than put her more on edge. "Don't be alarmed—I'm not going to hurt you. I just simply want to talk."

"Then talk," she bit back.

He nodded. "I come from a community not too far from here, and I wanted to ask you if you would like to join us."

"Join you," Michonne repeated after a lengthy pause, gripping her katana so tightly that her knuckles were aching. For all she knew, this guy could have been Hannibal Lecter. She wasn't about to take any chances with anymore lunatics, and she chuckled darkly at him. "And why would I do that?"

Aaron smiled, looking slightly amused, and slowly lowered his hands until they were resting at his sides.

"I've actually been watching you for about a week now." Then he added quickly with a sheepish smile, "I know—it sounds a little creepy. But my place, our home—it could use a person like you."

Michonne gave him a look.

 _He is definitely crazy._

"You don't even know me."

"No, but I know enough. You can ask me anything you want. I'll try to answer you."

Michonne pressed her lips together, studying him. "You've been following me?"

"Yes."

"Alone."

"Well, not exactly. But my partner, he's a bit farther off than me. You know, just in case something happens."

"You mean like I kill you."

Aaron nodded. "Although I would prefer it if that didn't happen."

Michonne lowered her katana by an inch and searched his face, trying to find any giveaway of what he could really be thinking. "And why would you want someone 'like me?'"

"I've seen what you can do out here. We could use somebody with your ability to fight. We…" He hesitated. "We've had some issues come up recently and could use more people with your experience to make us stronger."

"My experience," she snorted, shaking her head slightly.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"We have water, food, electricity…a town. A semblance of what life used to be."

Her brows furrowed as she took this in. "A town."

Aaron smiled. "Yes. There are a lot of us who live there."

After what seemed like several minutes of silence, Michonne finally lowered her sword all the way and stared at this man who was either impossibly stupid or impossibly brave to approach random strangers and chance meetings with them alone.

"Why should I trust you?" she asked after a few more moments.

"Because if this is what the world is now, then humanity needs to stick together. It's the only way to survive."

Michonne breathed out deeply through her nose. "If you're lying about this…" She raised her katana toward his face and pointed it between his eyes. "This goes straight through you."

Aaron half-winced, half-smiled. "That won't be necessary. But I guess that's fair enough."

* * *

Michonne stared at the black gate from the passenger seat, almost not believing her eyes…or her ears.

A surge of impossible hope ran through her.

Slowly getting out of the car, she finally looked away from the gate and over to Aaron, who had a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched the expression of utter disbelief on her face.

"Come on, let's go inside. It gets better."

She slowly followed him up to the gate where a younger looking woman with a hat was waiting for them and watching her closely.

Aaron gave her a small smile. "Hi, Rosita. This is Michonne."

The woman named Rosita simply nodded in greeting and pulled open the gate for them to walk through, not taking her eyes off of Michonne the entire time.

Aaron turned to Michonne and hesitated. "We have to take your sword and any other weapons you have on you. Just for our safety."

She frowned. "What—you think I can take you all by myself?"

"It's just protocol."

She shook her head and took in a deep breath. "I only have my sword on me. Wherever it goes, _I_ go."

"Okay," Aaron agreed, holding his hand out. Michonne stepped back quickly as Rosita invaded her personal space and started patting her down, looking for any other weapons on her. Once she was finished, Michonne glared at Aaron, who simply waited expectantly with his palm out. She reluctantly handed her katana over, a nervous look on her face, and he switched her sword to the hand further away from her and continued walking, making sure she was at his side and not behind him.

"I don't like this," she said under her breath.

He gave her a look of understanding. "None of us did. But we have to do it."

She released a heavy sigh. "Something's telling me that my week-long 'test' isn't over yet."

"Well, so far we haven't had any trouble with letting people in. Rick—he's our leader—isn't too happy about bringing in strangers to this place, but we all took a vote and decided that it needed to be done. I'll actually take you to him in a little bit. I basically recruit people that I think are a good fit, but he's the one who really decides whether they stay or go."

There were silent as they walked toward a street of large, spotlessly clean houses. It all seemed very _The Truman Show_ , Michonne admitted, and she didn't know whether she liked it or not. Somewhere inside of her, a warning bell was going off.

But then she heard the laughter.

"There are kids here," she said quietly, without even realizing it.

Aaron nodded. "A few. They get to live in safety here with their families. Hopefully you can help us keep it that way."

Another silence descended on them.

"Why can't we meet him now?"

Aaron stopped walking and looked over at her. He paused uncertainly before answering.

"Meet who?"

"Rick."

He glanced at Rosita, causing Michonne to frown before his eyes met hers again.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked cautiously, not liking whatever look passed between them.

He shook his head and dismissed her question. "We can do that. I'll just have to find him first and see if he's here."

"And my sword?"

Rosita shrugged. "I'll hold it while you go, Aaron."

Aaron nodded his thanks and handed her the katana. Then he turned to Michonne as they approached a large, two-story, light yellow house with shuttered windows and a front porch.

 _All that's missing is the white picket fence._

"This will be your home. I'll show you inside, then I'll go find Rick and take you to him."

Michonne stared up at it, speechless.

After a moment, she realized that Aaron had started walking up the porch steps toward the front door, leaving her behind. She moved to follow, snapping out of her daze.

 _My home._


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: HAPPY SATURDAY! A HUGE thank you to everyone who followed/reviewed/favorited. YOU ARE AWESOME. Also, I love Rick and Michonne. They're my favorite characters on the show. I'll treat them nicely. Rick just hasn't had Michonne until now and needs to find his way back from Crayville. :)

* * *

It seemed like thirty minutes had passed since Aaron had left to go find Rick, leaving Michonne alone to wander the house. She pushed aside the closed blinds and peeked out of the window, spotting Rosita sitting idly on the porch steps with her katana draped over her legs. She leaned forward curiously when a man sporting a serious mullet walked up to Rosita's side and began speaking with her, gesturing questioningly at the sword. He glanced at where Michonne was standing after a moment, and she jumped back, letting the blinds close on her.

Sighing, she sat down on the couch and bounced her feet, turning toward the piano. She shook her head.

 _A goddamn piano. I must be dreaming._

Her eyes landed on a set of framed photographs hanging above the staircase; the pictures gave the image of what looked like a very happy family. Something inside of her stomach churned as it suddenly dawned on her that this was somebody's old home.

She immediately stood up and wandered into the kitchen.

She was turning the water on and off at the sink when Aaron poked his head through the front door, startling her.

"It takes a while to get used to again," he smiled.

Michonne turned the faucet off and made her way toward him, not responding. She stopped a few feet away from the door. "You find Rick?"

He nodded. "He's here." He opened the door wider for her to exit before walking down the porch steps to the street.

Michonne spoke up as they began to walk away from the house with a silent Rosita in tow. "So, how long have you been at this place?"

Aaron smiled wistfully at some memory, keeping his eyes ahead of him on the street. "For a while now. Coming close to nine months, maybe?"

She looked over her shoulder at Rosita. "And you?"

The young woman shook her head. "No, I haven't been here as long. I'm new. I came here with Rick."

Michonne's eyebrows rose in surprise, and she stopped walking, turning her head toward her. A million questions flooded her mind at once. "What did you say?"

"I haven't been here as long as Aaron."

"No—you just said that you're new. And that you came here with Rick."

Rosita raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, not following.

Michonne gave her an expectant look. "But Rick's the _leader_ of this place."

Rosita looked at Aaron fleetingly before glancing back at her, unsure of what to say.

Michonne inhaled a deep, impatient breath as she watched them exchange their second muted conversation right before her eyes. She squinted at Aaron past the sunlight. "Aaron, who was recruited before me?"

The pause that he took before answering was not lost on her. "A man named Morgan."

Her gaze unfaltering, she asked slowly, already knowing the answer, "And who was recruited before him?"

Aaron's jaw twitched. "Rick." Then, he added as an afterthought, "Him, Rosita—their whole group."

Michonne stared at him like he had grown another head and two other arms. "And this is all just…okay with you?"

"A lot has happened since then," Rosita told her firmly, her eyes certain and her mouth pressed into a thin line. Michonne could hear the subtext of Rosita's words.

 _You don't know what you're talking about._

"What, exactly? What happened to whoever was your leader before?"

Michonne searched their faces when neither of them answered her question, pursing her lips. She turned back around with a frustrated huff. Looking pointedly at Aaron, her brows furrowed as they began to start walking again.

"Okay, fine. I'll just ask Rick, since he clearly doesn't want anybody else speaking about it. What exactly should I expect from this meeting, anyway? What's he like?"

 _Although I can already take a few guesses._

"It's just an interview," Aaron replied, looking relieved at their sudden change of conversation. "And Rick's been outside of these walls for longer than most of the people here; he's a good guy."

She studied him closely. "We'll see about that."

Aaron cleared his throat as they approached another large house three streets away.

"He's in there," he said, motioning to the front door. "Just go on in. He's expecting you."

Michonne pressed her lips together as she stared up at the house. "I feel like I should thank you, but a part of me feels like I'm being thrown into a lion's den."

She at least appreciated their honesty when neither of them denied it.

"And my katana?"

"Bring it inside with you."

Michonne turned her head at the sound of the low voice that held a hint of a Southern twang.

A man with wavy brown hair and a clean-shaven face was standing at the door of the house, his hand resting on one side of the open doorway. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the sheriff's uniform he was wearing.

 _You've got to be kidding me. He's the sheriff, too._

The urge to laugh left her when she noticed the cautious, hardened look in his eyes.

Without a word, Michonne calmly held out her hand to Rosita, who hesitated momentarily before handing her katana over. Michonne lifted the strap over her head and rested it onto her shoulder, sneaking another glance at Rick.

He had disappeared inside the house and had left the door open for her, and she inhaled deeply. Figuring there wasn't anything more to say to Aaron, she gave him and Rosita a nod in thanks for their help and made her way toward the front door, slowly walking past it and into the house.

Rick was standing in the living room with his hands on his hips, studying her. Her eyes fell across the room, blatantly ignoring his stare, fleetingly noticing that his house was clean and tidy, as if he never touched anything. Her gaze suddenly stopped on a stuffed elephant toy and some building blocks that could only have belonged to a very small child.

Her eyes darted back to Rick's. He was watching her like a hawk.

"Sit," he finally told her, pointing to a chair.

Michonne acquiesced and sat down on the cushion, readjusting her sword so that it wasn't poking into her back. She looked up at him patiently.

The fact that Rick was looking at her like he had already branded her a criminal made her hands clench into fists.

"How many walkers have you killed?"

Michonne let a pause settle in the air before answering. "Walkers?"

He didn't nod. "How many?"

Michonne shook her head incredulously as she looked off to the side, frowning as she thought of how to even begin to answer this question. She finally settled on the only unoffensive answer she could think of. "A lot."

Rick rested his hands on the back of the couch in front of him, leaning forward.

"How many people have you killed?"

Michonne's eyes snapped back to his.

She didn't hesitate before repeating calmly, "A lot."

His jaw tightened, and something in his eyes flashed. "Why?"

"Because they wanted to kill me," she replied without holding back the sarcasm. He didn't answer immediately, and she stared back at him calmly, refusing to be the first to look away from this ridiculous staring contest they had going on.

He blinked and glanced off to the side before returning his gaze to hers.

"How'd you survive alone for so long?"

Michonne hesitated, and something kindled in Rick's expression when he thought that he had gotten to whatever lie she was playing at.

"I…wasn't alone in the beginning," she replied cryptically. "That's all I've been doing since then. Surviving."

Rick searched her face. "Who were you with?"

Her mouth pressed into a thin line. "It doesn't matter."

"It does. Why aren't they with you anymore?"

She stared at him like he was insane—clearly, stepping over any personal boundaries wasn't an issue with this guy. "I'm not going to bring you down that road. Not unless I get to go down yours."

When he abruptly turned away from her and began walking toward the door, Michonne's lips parted in surprise. She immediately called out after him.

"Wait."

He looked over his shoulder at her, an eyebrow raised.

She gave him a look. "That's it? You haven't answered any of _my_ questions."

His expression didn't change. "That's because I ask the questions here."

Michonne simply stared back at him, stunned.

Rick continued walking toward the doorway, and she thought she saw a glimpse of the beginning of a smile tugging at his lips. When he pulled the door open and turned to her, she realized that she was wrong.

She wanted to wipe the shit-eating smirk off of his face with her fist.

"Welcome to the Alexandria Safe-Zone, Michonne."

They locked eyes as she rose from the chair, the frown deepening on her face from his blunt dismissal. She finally broke eye contact once she began to walk past him out the door, but he stopped her with a light tap on her upper arm. She froze and glanced over her shoulder at him.

He was looking down his nose at her. "One more thing. Your sword."

She turned around quickly, her eyes sending daggers his way. "No."

"It stays with me, or you go back out there."

"That's not going to happen."

Rick shrugged carelessly. "Then you leave. That's your decision."

Michonne weighed her options in the span of a few seconds. A part of her wanted to threaten him with what Rosita had told her, knowing that if he had risen to being the leader so quickly, so could anybody else—including her.

Instead, she tilted her head and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Sure, okay," she began, unfazed. "But if it stays in this house with you, so do I. Aaron agreed to it earlier."

He shook his head and chuckled. "I'm not Aaron."

She gave him a look of open innocence. "What—you don't trust your people?"

He blinked at her, his smile disappearing from his face.

Michonne sent him the same small, smug smirk he had given her before and took advantage of his momentary shock. "Thank you for the welcome, Rick."

He grabbed her arm not too gently when she turned away, and she quickly righted herself, yanking it out of his grip.

"Don't you ever touch me again," she snapped.

He was glaring at her. For one brief, ridiculous moment, she wondered at how such pretty blue eyes could belong on such an arrogant man. The thought was gone as quickly as it had come.

"It stays in your house with you," he told her through clenched teeth. "Someone sees you with it outside, you're gone."

Michonne eyed him for a moment before turning around without another word. She walked down the steps toward a half-happy, half-nervous-looking Aaron and ignored the fact that she could feel Rick's eyes on her back the entire time.

 _We'll see about that._


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Holy mother of mothers, I am so sorry that it took me this long to update! Hope your week is going well! :)

* * *

Michonne shut her front door after the woman named Carol had left. She stared at the casserole on her kitchen counter and felt her brows furrow. She was no stranger to games, and she had felt uneasy about that woman's friendly, almost too naive and motherly personality.

 _She's definitely one to watch out for._

She had been housebound all day since she refused to let Rick take away her katana, and the silence was driving her crazy. Itching to go outside, she walked out onto her porch and gazed out at the rows of houses being lit by the moon. Her gaze stopped on the head of who she could only assume was the poor guy assigned to watch her all night.

The man turned her way, straightening. She could barely see his face since his hair was hanging down in front of his eyes. Her eyes darted to his crossbow, and his eyes darted to her sword.

"I just wanted to get some fresh air," she explained. She then added dryly, "Unless you're here to enforce my lockdown."

The man simply grunted in return. "S'fine. 'Less you plan on swingin' at me with that thing."

"Only if you try to shoot an arrow through me."

The man gave no response and just continued to eye her warily, not able to tell if she was serious or not.

"Do you mind if I take a walk?" she asked, making her way toward him down the porch steps. He shrugged, stepping back to keep the distance between them.

She sighed and tucked her hands into the pockets of the jacket she had found in her closet. She had been given a quick tour of the place earlier in the day by Aaron and vaguely knew where most of the buildings were from memory. As she walked down the street, she became silently aware that the man was trailing a few yards behind her.

She turned her head over her shoulder. "What's your name?"

He didn't respond, and she added, "It's kind of difficult to ignore you when you're following me."

"Daryl."

She returned her gaze ahead of her, nodding. "What'd you do to piss off Rick and get stuck being my babysitter?"

Daryl snorted as if she had said something that amused him greatly.

"Rick told me some stubborn-ass chick walked in through the gates with a sword today," he replied. "I volunteered."

Michonne couldn't believe her ears.

"So, are you a part of his group?" she asked. "Rosita told me that she came here with Rick and a few others…" She let her voice trail off.

Daryl nodded at her. "Yeah. I came here with him. Don't really remember a time when he wasn't there."

She glanced back at him and tilted her head. Something about his admission surprised her. "You're close."

He squinted at her, a frown suddenly appearing on his face. "What's it to you?"

"Nothing," she replied honestly, shrugging. "It's just that Aaron spoke so highly of him, and I… Well, it's nothing. I'm just trying to figure him out."

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip in thought. He looked away as if he didn't know what to say.

The faint sound of laughter and cheering began to appear in the air, and after a few minutes when they had turned a corner, Michonne understood why. She got the feeling that her being on Rick's bad side wasn't the real reason Daryl had chosen to watch over her that night. She turned to look at him.

"Someone's birthday?"

He nodded in affirmation.

"Rick's?" she assumed, since it was all happening at his house.

"Nah. Chick named Jessie. Wanted to surprise her."

Michonne made a mental note of the almost irritated way in which he had mentioned the woman's name, cocking an eyebrow at the thought of Rick doing something kind for anybody else. It was hard to wrap her head around.

"What, you don't like her?"

Daryl frowned at her impatiently. "We done playin' twenty questions?"

She shrugged and glanced back toward the house. It all felt surreal. Never in a million years would she have thought that she was ever going to see an actual party again.

"It's weird living in a place full of people again," she finally said after a moment of silence between them. "I didn't mean to pry. In fact, I better head back. I'd probably kill the mood if they saw me wandering around here." She paused then added half-seriously, "Rick would shoot me on sight."

Daryl snorted. "Yeah, an' your sword would do shit to stop him."

Michonne looked over at her unusual companion and almost smiled. It was nice to finally be speaking with someone. The fact that she was doing most of the talking didn't bother her in the slightest.

She made to walk back the way they had come, but a voice in the distance stopped her.

"Hey! Daryl!"

A young man with black hair came running toward them from Rick's house with a half-empty bottle in his hand. Michonne eyed it, amused, and smiled back at him when he looked over at her and smiled amiably, obviously drunk.

" _Ah_. The stubborn samurai, right?"

Michonne rolled her eyes. "Word travels fast around here."

Daryl rolled his eyes as well and asked without any real spite, "Glenn, the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"What am _I_ doing? There's a party going on, and you both look miserable out here all alone." Daryl gave him a look, and Glenn immediately became flustered. He looked at Michonne and had the decency to look embarrassed. "Oh… You weren't invited. Sorry."

"It's okay," Michonne replied honestly. "Some lady comes walking into my home with a sword, I wouldn't invite her in, either."

He smiled sheepishly. "It's Michonne, right?"

"Yup. And you're Glenn."

"An' I'm Daryl," Daryl butted in dryly. "Glenn, go back inside. Rick'll lose his shit if he sees you out here with us. We ain't even supposed to be out here in the first place."

"What will he do, kill us all?" Michonne asked with a joking smile before she could stop herself.

Glenn and Daryl shared a look, and for a brief moment Michonne felt that she had overstepped her boundaries. Her doubts transformed into something else when she saw something akin to understanding pass between the two men.

An alarm went off in her head.

A small, absolutely unconvincing smile appeared on Glenn's face. "Look. Rick's a good guy. He's just…been through a lot."

Michonne blinked and gave him a challenging look, the smile on her face gone. "I've been hearing a lot of that lately."

"Being a leader is hard."

She shrugged, replying without missing a beat, "Yeah, it's especially hard when you're not a good leader."

"He was under a lot of stress," Glenn explained quickly. Michonne eyed him closely, suddenly attentive. "But he's better now. And besides, Pete—"

"That's enough," Daryl interrupted, glaring at him. He turned to glare at her, too. "You have a problem with Rick, you can talk to him about it. Not me, not Glenn. And Glenn, go back to the goddamn party 'fore I drag you there myself."

"Yeah. Yeah, alright." Glenn paused. He looked at Michonne. "Hey. It was nice to meet you. I've heard a lot of good things about you from Aaron. I'm glad you're joining us here."

She tried to smile at his words, but her mind was someplace else. "Nice to meet you, too."

Daryl sighed heavily as Glenn walked back toward the house and waved at them from across the street. Michonne began to wave back until he tripped over on the curb. He quickly righted himself.

"I'm okay!" he called back, smiling through his embarrassment.

She quickly turned back toward Daryl.

"I'm sorry," she told him quietly. "I didn't mean to piss you off. Obviously there's been a lot going on here that I don't know about."

Daryl shook his head frustratedly, dismissing it. He grunted after a moment and let his shoulders slump. "C'mon. We should be headin' on back."

"Okay," she agreed, nodding.

She looked across the street at the house again, wondering if Glenn had gone back inside safely, and she immediately felt her breath catch in her throat. Rick was standing alone on the front porch, watching them. He had one arm resting on the railing and was leaning against it languidly, his eyes on her while he took a sip of something that looked a lot like whiskey.

Michonne slowly looked over her shoulder at Daryl, but he was busy watching Rick, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

Michonne turned back around, wondering what had gotten his attention. A woman with blonde hair had her head poking out of the door, and she was saying something to Rick with a smile on her face. He turned to her, but not before she noticed that he was already busy looking at something. The woman followed his line of sight and stared at Michonne, her smile dropping fractionally.

"Let's go," Daryl muttered to her, turning around without waiting for her to respond.

Michonne watched as Rick said something to the blonde, straightening up from his spot. Whatever he said made the smile appear back on her face, and he put a hand on the door above her head to open it further, the woman smiling up at him lovingly. She turned and disappeared back into the house, and Rick looked over his shoulder to glance at Michonne just before he followed after. His eyes watched Daryl's retreating figure briefly before landing on her. He hesitated, and for one absurd moment, Michonne thought that he was going to leave the woman to go to her.

She watched Rick glance away and shake his head before he closed the door quietly behind him.

She told herself that he was too far away for her to clearly see his expression—and that the regretful look on his face was just in her imagination.

* * *

Author's Note part deux: I know, there weren't any words spoken between Rick and Michonne in this chapter, but it'll all change in the next one.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** It took me so long to update this...I AM SO SORRY. I moved to a different country and it's been a little hectic these past few months! If you are reading this right now, then seriously, kudos to you. You are amazing, and I hope that you have an incredible week. :)

* * *

Michonne could only blink dumbly when she was told that she was going to help keep stock of the pantry.

The young woman whose name was Maggie winced apologetically at her obvious displeasure, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Rick told me to put you there."

"The pantry?" Michonne asked, not knowing whether to be offended or humiliated. "That doesn't make any sense. The reason Aaron recruited me to this place was because I'm good at handling myself out _there_. He must have told Rick that."

Maggie nodded understandably. "I know. That's what I've heard, at least. I'm thinkin' Rick just wants to get you acclimated to this place first, and working the pantry's a good start to do that. You get to meet everyone real quickly."

Michonne pursed her lips and nodded, feigning acceptance. "And where is Rick now?"

"By the gate. Daryl 'n' Glenn are about to go on a run, and he's seein' them off."

Michonne immediately turned on her heel.

"Hey!" Maggie called after her, stunned. She quickly followed after a moment, striding by her side. "Wait. Where're you goin'?"

"I want to talk to Rick," Michonne replied, her calm voice not betraying the whirlwind of frustration inside of her.

"You know, he won't change his mind," Maggie warned.

"We'll see about that."

They both strode in silence until the black gate was in view, an SUV parked beside it. Rick turned his head toward them once he heard their footsteps, stopping whatever conversation was going on between him, Daryl and Glenn.

He locked eyes with Michonne and instantly looked away, resting his gaze on Maggie and waiting for her to say something.

"I'm on _food supply?_ " Michonne asked, glaring at him.

Rick turned back toward her after a moment and locked gazes again. He rested his hands on his hips calmly, as if he had been expecting this. "That's right."

Michonne felt her temper flare. "I'd be a better help out there."

"This isn't negotiable."

She didn't miss a beat before responding. "Like hell it is."

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're on food supply. It's not up to you."

"Now I really understand how things are run around here."

"Then there's no point in arguing with me. You want to be one of us here, you do as I say."

Glenn, Maggie and Daryl all shifted on their feet uncomfortably, a sudden silence falling amongst them.

"Rick," Michonne said more calmly, moving in front of him after he had turned away from her once more.

Rick bit the inside of his cheek silently and finally acquiesced, turning her way.

She wordlessly dared him to break eye contact again. "I haven't even been here for two days, and I can already tell just by looking at these people here that you need me."

The side of his mouth tugged downward. "We've got it covered."

"With only two people?" she replied quickly. "I know you're new at being a leader, but are you trying to protect your people or get them all killed?"

She saw him still at her words, and she immediately began searching his eyes. Some part of what she said had caused a reaction, but she didn't know what it was. His mouth dropped open slightly, a disconcerted expression flooding over his features.

Maggie shifted on her feet beside them.

"She could go on the run with Daryl and Glenn today," she suggested, breaking the suddenly tense silence.

Rick turned toward Maggie, looking stunned that she would be against his decision, while Michonne simultaneously turned her head toward Daryl and Glenn.

Daryl gave a one-shoulder shrug in response. "S'fine by me."

Glenn hesitated before giving his opinion on the mind. "I don't mind. And…Rick, she's kind of right. We could use another person."

"Rick," Michonne tried again firmly when he didn't respond after a few moments. "When I'm out there, I know what I'm doing."

Rick finally locked gazes with her. He nodded once. "Okay."

She couldn't help but smile a little.

"Let's go."

Her smile froze on her face, and she saw the other three glance at one another from the corner of her eye.

Rick didn't say a word to any of them as he opened the driver's side door and climbed in, slamming it so hard behind him that the whole vehicle rattled.

* * *

Rick had insisted that Michonne walk ahead of him, Daryl and Glenn. They had driven for a very silent hour-and-a-half and had now been walking through the woods for what seemed like two more hours. The entire time she was by herself, the three men conversing quietly a few yards behind her. Only _walkers_ , as Rick and the others had called them, had wanted to keep her company.

She looked up at the darkening sky and pulled her jacket tighter around herself, silently praying that the storm wouldn't come while they were stuck in the middle of God-knew-where.

"We're almost there."

Daryl's rough voice brought her out of her thoughts.

She turned her head over her shoulder at them. "And where exactly is _'there?'_ "

"Some old abandoned farm," Glenn replied.

"At least we're hopin' it's abandoned," Daryl muttered.

Michonne faced back forward and idly swung her katana in her hand. She heard Daryl sarcastically ask Rick if he was thinking of becoming a farmer again. Michonne almost keeled over with shock when she heard Rick chuckle in response and joke back that he maybe was going to because he was in need of a serious break.

She tried to walk as silently as possible when their voices hushed down to a whisper. She could only assume that they were talking about her.

"I'm glad that you came with us."

Glenn's voice broke her out of her thoughts, and she turned to face him, surprised.

"That makes one of you," she replied, half-serious.

He shook his head. "No, I think Daryl's glad about it. It's not obvious, but he wouldn't have agreed if he had a problem with you. It would have been dangerous if it was just the two of us alone. Plus, I think Rick needs this."

Michonne nodded, only half-understanding, and glanced up to see a wide clearing of grass beyond the edge of the trees.

"So, what's Rick's deal?" she asked conversationally. "Is he against bringing women out on runs?"

"No, no. It's not that. He just…doesn't trust you yet."

Michonne shrugged. That much she already knew.

Glenn added quickly, "But he was like that with most of the people who're with us now."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You mean he was like this with you?"

"Well…no."

"Uh-huh."

A bright grin suddenly lit up Glenn's face. "But then, I did save his life."

Michonne immediately looked over at him and felt herself smile. "I need to hear _that_ story one of these days."

"Trust me, it's as heroic as it sounds."

Michonne's smile faded after the sound of twigs snapping caused them all to freeze.

"Goddamn squirrel," she heard Daryl mutter behind her. They all continued walking.

"You guys all seem really close," Michonne remarked to Glenn after a few moments of silence.

Glenn nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, we are."

Michonne looked down. "That must be nice."

"It is. We're lucky."

Michonne nodded to herself before saying quietly, more to herself than him, "Yeah…you are."

She suddenly wasn't in the mood to talk anymore, and he got the hint. They both walked out onto the clearing in silence.

* * *

Michonne slowly ventured up the staircase of the large, seemingly untouched farmhouse, her katana readily in hand.

She placed her palm on the first door to her right, pushing it open slowly. The hinges creaked as they turned, and she slowly increased pressure until the door was fully open.

She didn't see any bodies.

Sighing with relief, Michonne stepped in and lowered her katana. She looked around. The room must have belonged to a pre-teen or teenage boy. There was a _Back to the Future_ poster on the wall and a row of DVDs and books on top of a wooden dresser. She smiled at the poster, appreciating this kid's appreciation for what she considered to be a timeless flick. She turned her head, and there was a framed photograph of a young boy and an older man holding up their catch after what appeared to be a long day of fishing.

She looked away.

Michonne stepped toward the dresser and ran her hand over the spines of the DVD cases, a smile tugging at her lips again at some of the titles. When she reached the end, she stopped, her eyes not blinking as she stared at what looked like precious gold.

Lying in a scattered heap by the books was a pile of comic books.

The floorboard creaked behind her, and she gasped loudly, whirling around with her katana in front of her.

" _Whoa,_ whoa―easy."

Rick had his hands up, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he stared at the tip of the sword near his nose.

"Don't _ever_ do that," Michonne snapped, glaring at him. She lowered her sword away from his face in one swift movement, her chest rising as she panted heavily. "I could have killed you."

He nodded in silent agreement, lowering his hands. His jaw twitched. "I'm sorry. Didn't know you were in here."

She simply glared at him one more time then watched as he glanced around the room, taking everything in. A worn-out look suddenly passed over his eyes, and she eyed him warily.

"What, you don't like Marty McFly?" she asked dryly.

When he didn't seem like he was going to respond, Michonne took it as her cue to leave, but his voice stopped her as she began to make her way toward the door to check out the next room.

"I have a son," he suddenly said.

She did a double-take at him, startled. She wasn't sure if she had heard him right.

Rick's mouth twisted sadly as he eyed a video game console on the floor. "Looking at this room… It kills me to think he won't grow up to be a normal teenage boy." He rubbed at his stubble and then ran his hand over his face.

Michonne felt something heavy weigh down in her stomach.

"He's there, in Alexandria?" she asked carefully.

Rick nodded.

She frowned at him with questions in her eyes, even though he was busy eyeing the picture on the wall.

"So, what, then?" she continued, her voice low. "You're just going to give up on him?"

Rick whipped his head toward her as if he had been slapped. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to," Michonne bit back. "I heard it in your voice."

A quiet anger appeared in his body, and he said with finality, "I know how to raise my son."

She looked at the stack of comic books on the dresser, then back at Rick. She picked them up and held them out to him, looking up into his confused and troubled eyes.

"He can still have that, Rick," she told him firmly. "The world may be different, but your son? He still needs his dad. So you better take care of him, or you'll regret it forever. I'd know."

Rick stared at her for a moment before looking down at what was in her hands and taking a hold of them. Something registered in his mind, and she saw it flicker in his eyes. He searched her face slowly.

"How would you…"

His voice was deafening in the stillness of the room.

His eyes widened.

"Michonne―"

Michonne brushed past him roughly and walked out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I used to always wonder how some authors were able to have months in between their updates for their stories, because I hated that... And now I am one of them. I have become what I hate. I sincerely apologize. If you are still reading this story, I love you.

* * *

After searching the rest of the rooms upstairs and finding nothing of use, Michonne sighed heavily and made her way back downstairs. She frowned once she saw that the living room and kitchen were both empty.

"Daryl? Glenn?" she called out.

Nobody answered.

"Rick?"

After another moment of complete silence, Michonne pulled open the front door and walked quickly down the porch steps. The thought that they left her was immediately at the forefront of her mind.

The tell-tale sound of groaning came from somewhere near the back of the house, and she quickly ran around the perimeter, her katana ready in both of her hands. A sizeable toolshed was surrounded by a group of seven or eight walkers, and Michonne only needed one guess to figure out where the three of them probably were.

Something rustled beside her, and Michonne turned her head quickly, lowering her katana at the sight of Daryl.

He pressed his lips together. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you like that. Was lookin' all over for you three. Where's Rick 'n Glenn?"

"I'm guessing in there," Michonne muttered, pointing at the shed with the tip of her sword. Daryl followed it with his eyes and frowned.

"I'll distract 'em," he said after a moment of thought. "Then get those two 'n meet me 'round front." He looked up at the sky and squinted as a raindrop fell into his eye. "But be quick 'cause it's about to get real loud."

Michonne nodded, but Daryl didn't notice because he was already making his way back around the front of the house. After a few seconds of tense silence, Daryl reappeared on the other side of the shed.

Rain began dropping lightly as he put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. The walkers all stopped their movements momentarily to slowly turn his way. Groaning, they began to leave the shed and move toward him. Michonne watched as he began backing toward the trees, darting his eyes around to make sure he was safe and whistling again. Once the last walker was far enough out of reach, Michonne snuck over to the toolshed and knocked on the front door.

" _Rick_ ," she whispered loudly. She knocked louder when there was no response. She glanced over to where Daryl was standing but could only see walkers.

Glenn pushed open the door as she opened her mouth to call again.

"Thanks," he panted, releasing a heavy breath. "For a second there I thought I was a goner."

Michonne nodded once and peered behind him, but the shed was empty.

"Where's Rick?"

Glenn shook his head and gave her a confused look. "I thought he was with you?"

Michonne pressed her lips together then looked around. "Okay. C'mon. I told Daryl we'd meet him out front. Then we'll find him."

She began to lead Glenn toward the front of the house, her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder as he turned the opposite corner at the same time, slowing his footsteps when he spotted only two of his companions.

He raised a hand over his eyes to keep out the rain and squinted at them, mouthing over, " _Rick?_ "

Glenn just shook his head in response, not wanting to raise his voice to fight against the thunder and rain.

Michonne gestured for Daryl to come closer.

"The last time I saw him, he was upstairs," she said as they huddled, gesturing toward the upstairs windows. Then she glanced higher and stared up at the roof. "I think there might an attic."

Daryl nodded and began to walk to the front door. "Let's go."

Glenn and Michonne followed closely behind him as they reentered the house and ran up the stairs, their weapons raised.

"I didn't open that last door," Michonne said, pointing at the end of the hallway. "It was locked, and I didn't want to make any noise."

Daryl nodded once and slowly made his way toward it, bringing his crossbow back into his hands. He tested the doorknob and looked back over his shoulder at her when it turned easily in his hands. Michonne gave him a nod, gripping her katana steadily in her hands.

He quickly swung the door open with his foot, his crossbow raised in front of his face. They all huddled closely together as they ascended the empty staircase, Michonne quietly shutting the door behind them.

She stilled at what she saw once she made it up to the attic floor.

Rick was sitting on a crate in the corner, his head in his hands. In the middle of the room were the bodies of what used to be two kids.

"They were locked up here, alone," he said, not looking up at them.

Michonne felt her blood turn to ice.

Rick finally looked up at them, his eyes tired. "I had to kill them."

No one spoke for a long time, the only sound in the room the rain hitting the roof above them.

"They were already dead, Rick," Glenn said quietly.

"Who could do that to their kids?" he asked in reply, his face scrunching up in disgust.

"Desperate people who didn't know what else to do," Michonne said after a moment of silence. Rick's gaze quickly turned to her, as if he had forgotten that she was there. Her expression was unwavering. "You did what you had to."

"So what do we do now?" Glenn asked, his voice quiet amidst the rain.

Rick slowly pulled himself up as a roar of thunder pierced the sky. He sighed, putting his hands on his hips and gazing out the attic window.

"We should stay until this storm passes. We won't be able to make it back through those woods in this."

Glenn, Michonne and Daryl all silently nodded in reply. Rick didn't say anything more and wordlessly walked past them, his head down. All they could hear was the roar of the rain and the sound of his footsteps as he descended the stairs.

* * *

Michonne pulled her legs up to her chest as she stared at the two candles they had managed to find from her position on the living room floor. They had closed the window shutters and were encompassed in darkness, Daryl sleeping on the floor across the room with a hand on his crossbow and Glenn fast asleep on the couch, his gun lying centimeters away from his fingertips.

Rick sat down near to her on the floor and said nothing, watching the candles flicker with her.

He turned his head to face her, and Michonne suddenly was hyperaware of his gaze. After a long moment he said nothing and turned back to the candles.

"I had to play it safe."

Michonne turned her head to stare at him, frowning. "Play what safe?"

"You." He finally looked over at her as she whipped her head to face him, and they locked eyes. "I had to play it safe with you, because of my family. I've been giving you a rough time because I'm not sure whether or not you can be trusted."

Michonne looked away, unsuccessfully fighting a frown from appearing on her face. "You don't have to explain yourself to me, Rick. I get it." The frown fell from her face, and she looked down at her hands, absentmindedly picking at her fingers. "I wouldn't take any chances, either. Not when the people I love are the price I'd have to pay."

Rick didn't say anything in response, and she glanced back at him. Her brows furrowed when she couldn't figure out what the look on his face meant. A suddenly uncertain look appeared in his eyes, and it was so close to pity that it immediately put Michonne on edge. She knew what was coming.

"Michonne… Earlier—"

"No."

"I—"

"Rick. I said no."

Rick closed his mouth and waited.

"I know what you're going to say. What you want to say." Michonne took in a deep, labored breath. "But I have nothing to say to you. So stop." She dared him to look away. "I could ask you about those kids up there. Your kids. But I'm not."

Rick pressed his lips together and looked away, his jaw locked. Then he sighed, and what came out of his mouth next surprised her.

"I'm sorry."

Michonne looked over at him, and he just stared back at her.

"Everybody's entitled to some privacy," he said simply. "Even now. It's not my place."

Minutes passed before either of them spoke.

Michonne suddenly asked without humor, "So, did I pass?"

When Rick glanced at her with an openly confused look on his face, she felt surprised when she almost cracked a smile.

"Today," she clarified. "This whole gimmick to see whether I'm a psychopath or not, because that's what this whole thing was really about, right? Did I pass your test?"

Rick was silent for a long moment before responding, and she wasn't sure whether he was going to answer or not.

"If the situations were reversed," he began quietly, "would you trust me?"

Michonne studied his face intensely, a haunted look clouding his blue eyes. That was not what she was expecting him to say.

"I don't know," she replied honestly, before she could think about it. "Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn't. I don't know if I can trust anyone anymore."

The smile on Rick's face didn't reach his eyes as he turned back to the candles.

A wave of mental and physical exhaustion suddenly hit Michonne at this realization, and she pulled her knees up to her chest in some sort of defence, resting her arms on them.

"You should sleep," Rick muttered, glancing to Glenn and Daryl, who were both already snoring lightly. He stared down at his hands. "I'll wake up Daryl or Glenn to keep watch in a few hours."

Michonne wasn't going to argue with that, and she reached forward to grab the throw blanket off of the couch next to Glenn, pulling it down onto herself. She wrapped herself in it snuggly before repositioning herself so that her back was to Rick and her side was keeping her up against the wall. Listening to only the sounds of their light breathing and the rain pattering against the roof, she slowly let her eyes flutter close and found herself drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Michonne jerked awake, her eyes snapping open. She slowly grew aware of a painful stitch in her neck, and she blinked, not really sure what she was looking at. She grasped her blanket tighter to her body, her eyes scrunching tiredly as she yawned. She snuggled her head into what she assumed was an incredibly soft pillow.

Then she tensed, slowly becoming aware that she was laying horizontally, and that the pillow beneath her head was not a pillow at all.

She shot up into a sitting position quickly, unable to fathom how she had somehow gotten herself to rest her head on Rick's lap in her sleep. She turned to him slowly and looked up at him from under her lashes. He was staring back at her, and if it wasn't for the fact that she was appalled at herself, she would have laughed at the dazed expression on his face. She was grateful for the darkness in the room as she felt her cheeks burn intensely.

"You should have woken me," she told him, her voice hoarse. She sat up straighter, scooting away from him and putting some distance between them.

Rick cleared his throat, and when he spoke his voice was just as rough. "I fell asleep, too. Think I woke up when you did. I was going to wake Daryl, but I didn't…want to wake you."

"Oh," Michonne replied stupidly. She turned her head to the closed window when neither of them said anything more and heard nothing but silence coming from outside of the house. "I can keep watch. Go back to sleep."

Rick was already shaking his head. "No. That was all I needed. Sleep if you want. I'll keep watch."

Michonne held herself back from saying that she was definitely wide awake now and that he clearly still didn't trust her yet to not kill him in his sleep. She sighed instead, too tired to put up a fight and deal with his stubbornness.

She lay on her side on the floor so that her feet were closest to him, not wanting a repeat of what happened earlier. She pulled the blanket closer to her body and blinked as she stared absentmindedly into the darkness of the room, acutely aware of Rick breathing beside her. She forced herself to shut her eyes, hoping that the next hours of the night would move by quickly.

* * *

"Hey."

Michonne groaned something noncommittally, pulling the blanket up toward her chin.

"Michonne."

Her eyes snapped open in an instant, and she quickly shot up onto her elbow as she reached for her katana. Somebody grabbed a steel hold onto her wrist before she could lift the sword off of the floor.

"Told you that wasn't a smart idea," Daryl drawled dryly from somewhere across the room, snorting. "I'm definitely driving our asses back. No way I'm getting in that car with you behind the wheel."

Michonne looked up at Rick, who was crouching over her with his other hand on the wall above her head to keep himself balanced, his breathing heavy. She glared daggers at him. "Now you're just asking to be killed."

"Didn't sleep last night?" Daryl asked Rick curiously, his arms folded across his chest. He was chewing at his bottom lip as he squinted at him.

"Nah, couldn't," Rick replied smoothly as he released Michonne, standing up. "Thunder kept me up all night."

Michonne stared at him silently as he lied to what she had been assuming was his closest friend.

"We should go," she said to no one in particular, desperate to fill the sudden silence. "They must be worried about you guys back home."

Rick didn't respond, and she turned to face him after a few moments. There was a teasing look in his eyes that took her by surprise.

She hated herself for noticing that it brightened up his face.

"Home," he repeated.

She shrugged nonchalantly, forcing herself to not break eye contact. " _Your_ home."

His gaze didn't falter, and Michonne finally averted her eyes to glance around the room. She slowly felt her brows furrow as she turned back to him to find him still watching her and searched his face warily, Rick searching hers right back, his head tilting slightly by her reaction. Glenn's soft snoring in the background broke her out of her daze.

She moved to gently shake him awake. Glenn stirred quickly, his eyes fluttering open. When she looked over her shoulder, Rick was still watching her, and she had half a mind to get him angry again just so he would say whatever was on his mind. Silent, unreadable Rick was at the top of her list of Ricks she didn't like.

"You're wrong," Rick said suddenly, stilling her movements. The pang that shot through her was more painful than she cared to admit, and she held her breath.

"They're worried about all of us. Including you."

Glenn groaned loudly and saved her the chance to respond as he slowly stood up, stretching his limbs, a smile on his face as he turned to her. His voice was groggy when he spoke. "Damn right."

From across the room, Rick addressed them all, an easy smile on his face. A teasing, challenging look twinkled in his eyes when he caught Michonne's gaze. "C'mon. Let's head home."


	6. Chapter 6

Michonne stared up at the house and picked at her sleeveless purple dress and black jacket. She closed her eyes and took in a deep, steady breath.

It was just a party. It was a party specifically for her, but still—it was just a party.

After she made her way up the porch, she stopped just outside the front door and listened. She could hear laughter and music on the other side. A funny, almost unfamiliar feeling fluttered through her stomach.

She raised her hand to push the doorbell before her nerves got the best of her when a voice broke her out of her reverie.

"You must be Michonne."

Michonne whirled toward the figure in the darkness and grabbed for a katana that wasn't there. A teenage boy with hair that reached his shoulders was observing her with a guarded expression on his face.

"That's me," Michonne confirmed warily, her eyes flicking up to the sheriff's hat on his head.

The boy stood up, and she relaxed fractionally when he held out a hand to her. "I'm Carl. My dad's told me a lot about you."

Michonne glanced down at his hand, her brows furrowing as she placed hers in it and shook it. "Your dad?"

"Oh. Rick—he's my dad."

Michonne wasn't sure if she was more startled at this revelation or in the slightly disdainful way in which he said this to her.

A sudden, embarrassed smile appeared on the boy's face that took her by surprise. "I, uh. I just wanted to thank you before you went inside. For the comics. I stayed up all night reading them. My dad told me what you did…and that was pretty cool."

A string of questions were flying through Michonne's mind as she smiled back at him. "You're welcome, Carl. I'm glad you liked them." She reached into her pocket, and it was her turn to be embarrassed. "Actually… I brought a present for you guys. It felt weird to not bring something. Well, it's mainly just for you, but it's the best I could come up with."

She took out three rolled comic books from her jacket pocket.

"They were collecting dust in my house," she continued, biting back a smile. It surprised her how easily the words _my house_ rolled off of her tongue. "And these are even better than the ones that your dad gave you."

Carl took them the millisecond after she held them out to him and looked up at her, eyes wide. "Why?"

"Because they're about Batman."

Carl just blinked.

Michonne smiled at his reaction, straightening a little. "And everybody _knows_ Batman trumps Superman any day."

He gave her a look in between his excitement.

"Hey," she said, her hands raised in defense. "Read these, and we'll approach this subject again. But be prepared to be wrong."

Carl shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks, Michonne. This… This is awesome."

"Well, it's about damn time! I thought I heard voices out here!"

A tall, burly man with quite the moustache was suddenly standing in the open doorway with a large grin on his face, holding a drink up in the air in a celebratory fashion.

Michonne looked at Carl and blinked, and he just rolled his eyes, making a drinking gesture with his hand to indicate the man's inebriated state. She smiled.

"Come on in and have a drink!" The man turned back toward the living room and called out, " _Hey, everyone! The guest of honor is here!_ "

Taking in another deep breath, Michonne followed him into the living room. The man clapped a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her forward for everyone to see. She cautiously darted her eyes around the room, not recognizing anybody at first, but instantly felt grounded once she spotted some familiar faces.

"Hey, you made it!" Glenn grinned. He and Maggie both got off the couch and walked toward her, drinks in hand.

"Looks like the party's been going on for awhile," Michonne remarked, gesturing to the moustached man who was clearly past his third drink.

Glenn rolled his eyes, but he smiled. "Oh. Yeah. That would be Abraham."

Maggie smiled excitedly as she surveyed her outfit. "You look gorgeous, Michonne."

Michonne chuckled nervously and looked down at herself, saying dismissively, "I, uh, found it in one of the closets."

Maggie had a sly smile on her face. "I knew you'd like that dress." Michonne blinked stupidly at her, but Maggie laughed and grabbed her hand before she could say anything. "Now c'mon. Let's get you a drink and not keep everyone waiting. Everyone's been dying to meet the girl with the sword."

Michonne glanced over her shoulder, looking around as she let herself be pulled away.

She didn't want to think too closely about who she was looking for.

* * *

Michonne closed her eyes and took in a deep breath of fresh air, enjoying the silence that she was still unused to being in.

"What're you doing out here alone?"

Michonne smiled at the voice, turning her head. "I just wanted some fresh air."

Carl shut the front door behind him and joined her at the railing, looking out toward the street.

"Don't feel like reading those comics I gave you?" she asked.

Carl scoffed dramatically. "I've already finished them."

"And the verdict?"

"I guess Batman is cool, too," he muttered under his breath like a child.

Michonne chuckled at his reaction. "Thank you. That was _all_ I needed to hear."

They both went silent, and after a moment they made eye contact again and burst into laughter.

"Seems like the real party is out here. Hey, Carl."

Carl looked over his shoulder as Rick closed the front door quietly behind him, the smile fading from his face.

"Hey, dad," he muttered back in response, his eyes back on the street.

Michonne was only faintly aware of Carl crossing his arms in a teenage annoyance she hadn't seen in a long time. Her focus was stolen by the baby girl in Rick's arms.

Rick couldn't help but smile when he noticed her expression. He bounced the girl and asked her in a soft voice, "Want to say hi to Michonne, Judith?" The baby babbled in reply, playing with the button on Rick's dress shirt.

Michonne felt like she couldn't breathe. Never did she think that she'd see a baby again. Not in this world.

"Want to hold her?" Carl asked.

Michonne hesitated, unable to find any words to say.

"Women are always asking to hold her. It's okay." Carl shrugged and faced Rick expectedly.

Rick nodded, but Michonne couldn't ignore the way his jaw locked as he walked closer to hand Judith over.

Michonne couldn't stop the tears from appearing in her eyes once she held the baby in her arms, a grin tugging at her lips so wide that it almost hurt. Her face softened as she stared at the small, blonde-haired bundle of beauty.

"Hi there, Judith," she said to the little girl softly. "I'm Michonne." Judith grasped one of her locks, tugging playfully, and Michonne laughed softly when she began to babble happily.

"She likes you," Carl said with a smile.

"Oh, she's beautiful," Michonne whispered, gently moving the baby's bangs away from her eyes.

She wiped at a stray tear that began to roll down her cheek and immediately rolled her eyes at herself. Judith grabbed ahold of another lock of her hair, and Michonne bounced her in her arms, to which the baby responded to with a high-squeak of a laugh. "I'm glad that I decided to come tonight because I got to meet you."

"You weren't going to come?" Carl asked curiously. "Why not?"

Michonne smiled at him, hating herself for feeling self-conscious. "I would've been less nervous to go back outside those walls. I put this dress on ten times before coming here."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad you did," Carl replied. He gestured to Rick with a nod of his head and said half-seriously, "He would not have been happy if you didn't show."

Michonne flicked her eyes over to Rick, who was waiting to see her reaction.

"Your dad wouldn't have been able to handle me," she replied with a teasing smile, their gazes unfaltering.

There was a hint of something unplaceable and dark in Rick's eyes after she spoke, but it immediately disappeared after he blinked. Michonne smiled at him for a moment longer before retreating her eyes back to Judith and bouncing her again, tickling her stomach with her finger and grinning at the happy squeals it emitted.

Carl's grin was real this time. "That true, dad?"

Michonne stopped bouncing Judith and looked at Rick curiously.

"I could've handled her just fine," Rick replied coolly, a calm smile on his face.

Judith babbled happily again and reached for Rick's shirt, and Michonne let out the breath she didn't know she was holding in. Rick moved closer to Michonne to take the baby back into his arms, and Michonne froze at the words Rick whispered into her ear as she handed Judith over, the faint scent of alcohol invading her space.

" _And I would have enjoyed it._ "

"Rick!"

Michonne turned to blonde woman she had seen with Rick that night, erasing the look of shock from her face.

"Jessie, hey," Rick greeted after a pause. Michonne glanced over at him and watched as his entire demeanor changed before her eyes.

"You must be Michonne," Jessie smiled kindly, extending her hand out in front of her. "I'm Jessie. It's nice to meet you."

"Hi," Michonne greeted back politely, shaking her hand. Her eyes strayed to Rick's, only to find him staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face. She stared back at him silently, her brows furrowed into a slight frown.

"Hey, Carl," Jessie greeted with a smile.

Carl forced a smile back, but the woman was obviously used to it and wasn't fazed. "Hi."

When Jessie turned her way again, Michonne's lips curved into an easy smile. She could see Rick smirk out of the corner of her eye.

Jessie placed her hand on Rick's arm and smiled knowingly at her. "You don't mind if I steal Rick away, do you?"

Michonne saw the perfect opportunity to ignore whatever the hell had just happened between her and Rick and smiled widely at Rick as she spoke. "No. Go right ahead."

Jessie smiled at her gratefully before pulling Rick back into the house.

Michonne held Rick's eyes until he was out of sight, the smile long gone from her face.

* * *

Michonne stared at Rick from across the room as Jessie laid her hand on his arm, laughing at something he said as he drank from a wine glass with a good-natured smile on his face that she had never seen before.

She wanted to walk right over there and wipe it off with her fist.

Her head tilted as she observed the casual manner in which he carried their conversation, his words from earlier replaying in her ears.

 _And I would have enjoyed it._

Michonne tightened her grip on her jacket and pressed her lips together. Just when she thought she was getting to know who Rick was, he did a one-eighty and surprised her. There was one thing that she _was_ sure of now. The passive facade that he held in front of most of these people was just a cover. There was another side of him that he was hiding—the side that was up in that attic, haunted and broken; the side that had been joking with Daryl and laughing the other day, careless and easy-going; the side that had interrogated her like she was a criminal, as if he was afraid of repeating a past mistake; and the side that had whispered in her ear, dark and wicked.

And she wanted to see more of it.

She pressed her lips together and continued to gaze around, spotting Glenn, Maggie, and Rosita laughing in what looked like a heated debate with Abraham and Sasha over by the drinks table. She looked outside the window to the street, and she immediately straightened.

Daryl.

She quickly pulled open the front door and stepped outside, leaving it slightly ajar behind her.

"Hey," she greeted. "Didn't want to join the party?"

Daryl gave her a look from the sidewalk. "Don't know how many more of those I can take. Rather _patrol_ than be stuck in that house."

A smile tugged at Michonne's lips. "Mind if I join you?"

He looked at her suspiciously and paused for a long moment before answering. "Ain't this your party?"

She shrugged in reply. "Yeah. So?"

He looked at her like she was slightly crazy but finally shrugged with one shoulder.

"Me, too. This party fucking sucks."

Michonne smiled and fought the urge to roll her eyes as she turned her head to face Carl. She sneered at him teasingly.

"Hey, don't bash my party. Your dad threw this whole thing for me."

"My dad didn't do anything," Carl said with a bitter undertone to his words that startled her. "He didn't even get here until way after you arrived."

Michonne searched his face as the boy presumably looked back at his dad from across the house, his brows pulled together in a scowl.

"You sure he'll be fine with you sneaking off like this, with me?" she asked slowly, the waves of resentment bouncing off of his body loudly. "Your dad doesn't even trust me enough to let me hold your sister without him being less than a foot away."

"He just…he just doesn't get it sometimes," Carl replied cryptically, sighing. "It's fine. And I know you wouldn't hurt me."

She tilted her head at him, her response genuinely curious. "And what makes you think that?"

He stared back at her openly, as if his answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "Because your favorite superhero is Batman."

A small smile slowly made its way on Michonne's face at his words.

"Besides, Daryl and I could kick your ass any day."

Daryl snorted.

Michonne rolled her eyes. "You're right. I just don't want your dad to poison me in my sleep."

Carl smiled amusedly. "He'd totally just shoot you and save the trouble."

She blinked as he softly closed the front door behind him and watched him walk down the porch steps toward Daryl, stunned.

"You should still tell Rick that you're leaving with me, just in case," Michonne began again, her hand on the doorknob.

"I don't think he'd care if I left," Carl replied, looking at her over his shoulder.

At his words, Daryl made an angry noise and looked ready to smack Carl upside the head. Michonne stopped and looked at them squarely, her hand dropping to her side.

"Why d'you keep talking 'bout your dad like that?" Daryl snapped.

Carl frowned at him defensively, his chin raised slightly. "Like what?"

"Like he won't care if you disappear from the face of the goddamn earth. And don't tell me it's bullshit. Getting real tired of you moping around over nothing."

"It isn't nothing. How would _you_ know, Daryl, you—"

Carl closed his mouth. He settled on a glare.

Michonne slowly walked down to them and faced him. "I know it's none of my business," she began quietly, her eyes honest as she looked at him, "but I didn't even know you yesterday, and I already knew that your dad cares about you."

A mask was suddenly drawn on Carl's face, but not before a look of surprise sparked in his eyes. He glanced away from the two adults stoically.

Michonne mentally archived that reaction for later and sighed. "C'mon. I think a walk would do us all some good right now."

She looked up at the windows of the house as they made their way down the street and listened to the music coming from inside. She had only been at the party for about an hour, but she already knew what she had to do, and more specifically, who to talk to.

She figured that after a nice stroll around the block, it would be the perfect time to walk back in and ask a lot of drunken Alexandria residents all about Rick Grimes.


End file.
